Chapter Text
"You...wait. You're-- where ?"
When Tony sighed and finger-combed his hair, Steve already knew he’d hate his response. " Korea ," he barked on the video feed. " Emergency SI meeting I couldn't miss. I had to jet out at three am just to make it on time for this fuckin' shithole of a gathering."
The corners of Steve’s lips tugged and he silently wished he were in the gym instead of Bruce and Tony’s joint lab - at least then he could’ve punched something. Rubbing his brow he slowly exhaled, letting his eyes briefly flit over to Bruce. The scientist had removed his glasses at some point, worrying the temple tips of his glasses between his fingers in order to ground his emotions.
“Stay safe, Tony.” Bruce’s expression hardened as they watched Tony’s dog and pony show.
Steve glowered at a stain on the lab floor, reimagining it as abstract art to calm down. "You're gonna be back soon, right?"
"Six, seven days. Tops."
"Gonna hold you to that."
Bruce sighed heavily and folded his arms into his body, curling in as tightly as an angry pill bug. “And you’re sure you...you can’t come home? I mean, can’t you--”
“Sorry, Pooh,” Tony interrupted. Tony’s veneer almost cracked despite how hard he kept it up. He opened his mouth to spin another lie, but wisely shut it after a pause. “I’m sorry. I wish...I--I’m sorry.”
Tony finally looked genuinely contrite, but unloading now wouldn’t do them any favors, and God knew Bruce didn’t deserve to feel worse. Steve briefly watched as Bruce squeezed his glasses frames between his fingers, bending the frames. Tony, you goddamn knucklehead, Steve thought. I hope you’re jumping on the next flight home, so help me...
"Come back soon," Bruce murmured. He was trying like hell to stay stoic but Steve caught glimpses of his hurt and anger, regardless of how scrupulously he stuffed his emotions. “We...ah. We miss you.”
But when Bruce nibbled his lip to stop it quivering, Steve was seconds from throwing his better judgment off a cliff.
"I'll be back before you can say Jack Daniels, Pooh. Can't keep me away. Ciao ."
And Tony cut the connection before they did.
“God.” Steve stared at the blank video screen, cheek jumping from the strain of his clenched jaw. "You okay with any of that?"
"Not at all."
"You buy the whole, 'Hulk broke the GoPro and the feed didn't load' crap?"
"Nope."
Steve stared at his feet. Might’ve been Tony’s game, but Tony didn’t get to set the rules. "Jarvis,” he began, rocking back on his heels. “What protocols are up for last night's north kitchen feed, from say...eleven PM to two AM?"
"Protocol 1-1 A, 2B, B2, B3. Zero. Zero. D. Zero."
"Dammit. Total lockdown.” Obviously there was something on the feed he’d hid from them, but Steve hoped Tony left too quickly to throw up the protocols. Never underestimate a genius, he supposed.
He paced and ran a finger across his jaw. “Bruce, can you crack it?”
“ Crack it?” Bruce laughed awkwardly, and Steve stopped pacing long enough to see if Bruce had gone green. He hadn’t, but the shock of Tony’s abandonment was definitely wearing off.
Bruce stabbed a finger at the monitor. “The fucking computer hacker ran off, in case you forgot. And besides, you really don’t want me mucking around with Jarvis’ programming.” He tugged his nose and matched Steve’s paces, unconsciously copying him. “Running away’s my schtick, not his.”
Steve stopped pacing. He went over to Bruce and wrapped his arms around him, and Bruce sunk into his chest. “What the hell was he thinking, Muffin?”
“Dunno.”
It’d been a while - years, maybe - since they’d had a fight this big and Steve hated the tension. By now one of ‘em would’ve apologized and fallen into a teasing banter; he’d mention something about Bruce looking too small, needing some carbs, and Bruce would jiggle his belly and say something crass before an “annoyed” Tony plugged him with food. Or Bruce’d mention the chore of walking from one end of the room to the other, and Steve’d laugh about how he’d heard Bruce coming from two rooms over and Tony’d mention he’d be lighter with his clothes off--
"I can only conclude one thing,” Bruce began, shuddering in Steve’s arms. “I caused it. Hulk...Hulk must've said or done something. That's the only reason--"
"Don't, Bruce. God, no." He hugged Bruce tighter. "It's not your fault. It's...whatever screw's loose in Tony's head right now. He ran but we're gonna have to let him go until he's ready to come back."
"I...I don't think I can handle not knowing." Bruce pulled away and wrung his hands. His voice began cracking under the strain of holding back his emotions. "If it's my fault, I need to own it. I--I have to. If Hulk...if I hurt--"
"Shhh..."
Steve grabbed Bruce again, not letting his doubts tug him under, again and again...God, he was gonna kill Tony for his passive aggressive bullshit.
"I need to find out what happened." Bruce sniffed, quickly put on his glasses, and violently scrubbed his face beneath the lenses. "Tony doesn't do this. He wouldn't do this to us. To me ."
"I know, Bruce, but--"
"No, Steve," Bruce ground out, standing his ground. "It's not normal. The clues are around here. We'll...unearth every rock, no matter how ugly it is."
He gave Bruce a supportive half-shrug. "Okay. We can try. But where should we start?"
Bruce paused. "Jarvis," he said. "What are Tony’s lockdown protocols prior to late last night?"
"No protocols exist, sir."
A broken, bitter smile spread across Bruce’s lips and Steve squeezed his shoulder. "Then that’s where we start."
**
Jarvis did not have any innate or latent talents, save what his creator provided. But as a fully functioning AI construct, he did have different skills from all other AIs due to his unique processing abilities. His creator gave him the capability to learn independently, and Jarvis had studied human behavior quite extensively. He wouldn’t have arrogantly presumed to be superior to human beings - a human created him, after all - but if he had a mind to brag, he would’ve easily said he could correctly predict behavioral outcomes within one one-hundredth of a zeptosecond. When Tony discovered his AI began correctly predicting the subtleties of negative human behavior he’d been awestruck, but thrilled. Jarvis had hidden talents he didn’t know about. How cool was that ?
But for all his specializations, Jarvis couldn’t prevent situations, or interrupt situations in progress. Certain incidents were frustratingly human and sometimes, in his darker core, he wondered what he could do with extensions. If he could give comfort or aid with arms. He had knowledge; he’d consumed all the knowledge humans catalogued in every library in the world. However. All knowledge was speculative and theoretical, unless put to the test.
So. He could try.
And considering the situation, he certainly could do no worse.
"Sir," Jarvis prompted. "I know you've muted me, but I feel insistent."
"N'now, J." Sir’s slurred speech wasn't an unknown to the AI, and Jarvis easily interpreted the garbled words. Video was only partially effective as he was using Sir’s wristwatch to “see” and the odd angles at which Sir held his hands hampered his visuals. Jarvis could make out a desk and his creator’s slouched posture over a near-depleted bottle of Glenlivet Reserve, 25 years.
"G'wan...G'wan home."
If he could sigh, he would have. He did not believe the amount alcohol consumed was safe. Over the years Sir’s tolerance levels had dropped, and it currently took far less alcohol to trigger his safety protocols.
"If you persist, I will need to contact the authorities per emergency health protocol 1, aka, 'Pepper's Law.' " Unbidden, Jarvis monitored Sir’s respiratory and heart patterns and ran a quick diagnosis. Alcohol was a known sedative, and his creator had not imbibed this heavily in several years. There could be lethal consequences if continued.
"You've had twenty ounces of whisky in less than two hours. I'm obliged to, per the vernacular, 'cut you off.' "
"Hmf." Tony sloshed another shot in his glass but Jarvis doubted Sir could recognize the tumbler at this point.
" Sir ."
Sir huffed and stared at the shot glass. But something must have activated within him, as he seemed to ponder the drink and observe it. Then he flung the glass into the wall, sending liquor and sharp shards across the room.
"Fuck. Fuckin' sucks, J."
"What does?" Sometimes, Jarvis learned, the best option of all was to keep people talking. He would continue to monitor Sir's health levels, and if they dipped below dangerous levels he would call an ambulance and the hotel concierge. He would also alert the staff in the morning, regarding the mess and glass shards. "Oblige me, please."
Sir ran a hand through his hair and the camera angle jared from the desk to his creator careening, back-first, onto his bed. Jarvis could record the ceiling, and noted the sleek, rotunda designs of a four-star hotel room for his files.
"World. Shit. World spins. Spins."
"Alcohol at extreme levels create the illusion of a 'spinning planet,'" Jarvis agreed. "However, it's a density difference between the cupula and the fluid in your ear canal--"
"Y'sound like 'im."
"Who, Sir?"
"Brucie Bear. Juuust like 'im. Fuck. It's...it sucks. He. He's not the same."
"How so? Could you elaborate?" Jarvis made a few other calculations. Sir would, most probably, fall into an unconscious state in three minutes or less, depending on their conversation. He would continue to monitor his health, however. Sir’s BAC would continue to climb but should remain below emergency protocol levels.
Barely.
His creator’s voice hitched. Jarvis' camera jiggled and his feed included a blurry smudge. "I dunno...gotta say, wasn't expectin' it. Me an' Cap, we gotta...gotta change it. Regro. Renog..."
"Renegotiate?" Jarvis offered.
"Yeah. That. Poor Bruce..."
Sir trailed, and Jarvis wasn't sure if he'd succumbed to sleep. His heart rate and breathing slowed enough to warrant it.
"Jarv. He...does he know?"
"If you're referring to Professor Banner's knowledge of an additional alter, I do not believe so, Sir. Not according to what I could determine."
"We gotta tell 'im. Dunno how. He's gotta know. S'ok to tell 'im, J. I give you permish."
"Understood, Sir."
But Jarvis wasn't sure if he’d been heard, as the audio echoed with tortured snoring.
**
Bruce coped by diving into his data but technology wasn’t Steve’s forte. And going to town on a sandbag didn’t seem prudent with Bruce so close to snapping. Still. He couldn’t sit around and do... nothing .
When Bruce tinged green and snapped at him for asking him too many goddamn questions right now, Steve he ordered lunch and left Bruce to his research. Not that he noticed his absence in the first place.
“Wow! You’re--a-are you...uh--”
“Maybe,” Steve shrugged. He wasn’t in the mood to play hero to a fan, but he was trying his best to be polite. He grabbed the delivery bags from the Uber driver and gave him extra money. Something Tony said, to “bribe them for their silence.” He didn’t realize Tony tipped so heavily until he got what it meant to be a high and mighty celebrity in this day and age.
“But no one’ll ever believe ya if you tell ‘em, will they?” The Uber driver made a move to get his cellphone, but Steve gave him the eye and he wisely put his phone away. “Good man.”
Steve ignored the ogling driver as he grabbed all the bags and headed inside, but he watched to see if the driver took a picture anyway. He didn’t; Steve nodded. He’d be sure to Tweet him a good review from his official “CapnMurica” handle. Remembering Tony’s lessons on tipping sent Steve’s heart sinking. Tony didn’t have to run. Nothing was so bad that it risked them splitting up. They should’ve worked it out. Together.
Bruce was still tearing across one of the keyboards when he strolled in with lunch. He half-listened while he set up a side table, but Bruce was deep in thought and hadn’t heard him enter.
"Jarvis," Bruce grunted. He was glancing at a sciency sheet of paper before checking his handwritten notes. "Run thirteen fifty-two through fifteen-forty, double speed."
"Same parameters, sir?"
"Yeah."
Steve briefly looked up, watching Bruce tent his fingers and leaning close at the monitor playing yesterday's living room feed. Curious, he crept behind Bruce and stared over his shoulder. The feed played Bruce guzzling down his pizza while he and Tony fondly looked at him. Bruce was a little messier with the crumbs than usual, but Tony wasn’t--
"Jarvis.” Bruce was close to yelling, and Steve jumped. “Pause it!"
The feed stopped. Tony's expression had changed from his usual leer, to...something darker. He was scrutinizing Bruce like one of his experiments. Steve remembered seeing Tony’s face like that at lunch, but he’d laughed soon after and Steve’d forgotten. He thought it was due to Bruce eating a hundred miles an hour and acting all prissy when he didn’t get what he wanted fast enough. Steve thought it was kind of funny but Tony didn’t, apparently.
Bruce grit his teeth, muttering to himself. "You spoke about my big, beautiful brain, Tony. What about yours? What are you hiding?"
Steve touched his shoulder. "Hey."
Bruce yelped, and Steve chuckled quietly. "Sorry, I had to interrupt. You’re thinking too much so I got us some lunch.” He handed Bruce a submarine sandwich and chips, and brought out two drinks. “You need to eat, Porkpie."
“Okay, okay.” Bruce tore into the food as soon as Steve handed him the bags, but kept one eye on the monitor. He started in on the chicken pesto hoagie and added a few potato chips to it for a crispier texture while waving a hand at the monitor, playing back at one-tenth the speed. "I could've had the bots get something for me from the kitchen."
Bruce frowned when a few globs from lunch dotted his shirt, and Steve handed him a napkin. "Except you didn’t.” His voice was a little sharp, but he felt justified. “You disappeared into your little project and forgot to eat. Can't waste what we've done so far, gotta at least maintain you."
"Maybe. This is more important, though." Bruce nodded to a soda can and paused when Steve gave him the opened one. "You added the gainer fuel?"
"Yep. So you'll get hungrier in a little bit. But I'm ready." He held up another bag of food.
Bruce rolled his eyes and took giant gulps from his can. “I need to concentrate. If I get too hungry, I won’t be able to.”
Steve shrugged but put down his sandwich when something on the crawling feed caught his eye. Something was definitely wrong. He tapped the screen, scanning the slow video feed as Bruce sighed.
"Do you see it?"
"I think so. Jarvis, pause it for me?" He ran his fingers across Tony's visage. "You can see it there. He's weighing the pros and cons, mulling over consequences." Frowning, he shot Bruce an icy glare. "You and he can get like that in the lab, and it's impossible to talk to either of you when you're like that."
"Sorry." Bruce apologized and threw the empty soda can into the trash. "We do go into 'science mode' more often than not, and leave you out." He shook his head, glowering at the same screen. “We’ve got maybe a day to piece the clues together. As soon as Tony returns to his right mind, he'll lock down everything left and right, more than even now. We’re lucky he let us see the events leading to last night.”
"What else is new?" Steve ground his teeth. “He used to say Fury’s secrets had secrets. He’s got his own, too.”
“Doesn’t everyone?”
Steve swallowed. He hadn’t pulled his punches and he didn’t have any right to throw stones around. Not when... dammit .
He should’ve said something yesterday.
Grunting, Steve rapped the screen. "I...may have part of the puzzle. Tony didn't want me to say anything, but due to current events I think I should."
Bruce curled back in his chair, which popped and squealed under his large frame; Tony mentioned fixing it soon, but it probably needed replacing the rate Bruce was gaining.
"Enlighten me," Bruce barked coldly.
Steve sighed, pulled up a chair, and reached for Bruce's left hand. But Bruce quietly moved it away from him. "Fine, then,” he snorted. “It'll make you mad."
"Better angry than clueless." Bruce tapped his fingers against his desk. "Tell me, Steve."
"We had a talk yesterday. During your post-breakfast nap."
Bruce turned to face Steve, his face unreadable but undeniably chilly. "About?"
"I, ah. I told Tony that I thought--" he rifled a hand through his hair and puffed out a gust of air while Bruce kept his glare on him. "It's the Hulk. I told Tony that I thought Hulk...was finding a way into your subconscious to manipulate you."
" What ?"
"Yeah. It's a theory, though. I'm not sure if--"
“No...no, no--it isn’t possible--” Bruce whipped to his monitor and shoved away last night’s feed. He pulled up a string of data and formulas and anxiously scanned the contents. "There's no way...he couldn't have,” Bruce finally whispered. He sat back leadenly in his chair. “It’s impossible, he's not that smart..."
"Who, Hulk?”
“Yeah, yeah...” Bruce scrubbed his face as if warding off a migraine from hell. “This is...no. Hulk couldn't. But how-- ?”
A funny little chill crept up Steve’s spine and he came as close to Bruce’s space as he dared. He got this way, on rare occasions. Usually when he was fighting off an unscheduled Hulk event. "Hey, Muffin. Talk to me."
Bruce waved him off but Steve made the decision to get closer. He wanted to support him but-- yeah. There it was. A small tinge of green crawled across Bruce’s hands.
“Bruce, hon.” He licked his lips. “Hold it together.”
“There’s nothing--” Bruce’s voice deepened. “There’s nothing to hold together. Tony left us.”
Hell. He didn’t notice he was changing. Jesus--
"Doctor Banner," Jarvis interrupted. Bruce seemed to hear that, though, and his very green, very bright eyes turned to the sound.
"Jarvis,” Bruce growled, “unless it's Tony put it on the back burner." He brought up his notes and frantically poured over the minutiae of each section, his body alternating between green and pink, his hands expanding and shrinking.
Steve’s heart hammered in his chest. “Jarvis,” he called to the AI, “this is out of my element. Is this a Code Green, or what?”
The AI paused entirely too long. “Uncertain, Captain Rogers. Might I suggest grabbing some water from the lab refrigerator?”
“On it.”
Bruce had begun mumbling to himself, shivering. "T--this doesn't feel...right. This--"
"Bruce, sweetheart.” Steve quickly grabbed the water, opened the bottle, and presented it to Bruce but Bruce batted the bottle away and water tumbled to the floor. He bit back a curse. Staring into shifting green, brown, and hazel pupils, he gently shook Bruce. “Talk to me, baby. Whoever you are now."
"Steve.” Jarvis intoned suddenly. “Doctor Banner has a message."
Steve straightened and stared at the ceiling, realizing the interruption’s importance if Jarvis deigned it necessary while Bruce was...having a fit--
“Is the message from Tony?”
“No.” Jarvis was cold, direct. Steve didn’t remember ever hearing that kind of tone from him. “Someone else.”
“I...I have to go,” Bruce murmured, his voice shifting into a guttural range. His back expanded and slowly ripped through his lab coat’s puckered seams. “Find T-Tony...”
"Doctor Banner,” Jarvis interrupted again. “You have an emergency message."
"God dammit,” Steve yelled, feeling at his limit. He wouldn’t be able to stop Hulk rampaging after Tony, if he was dead set on finding him. “If it’s not Tony, it’s gotta wait! Help me with him, or I swear--”
"Captain Rogers, please be patient. I believe this would be the ideal time to give Doctor Banner some water--?"
“Didn’t go so hot the first time, but sure, whatever.” He took a few quick steps to the fridge and pressed it into Bruce’s hand, unopened, and this time the ice water had the desired effect. Bruce shuddered and shrunk while the creeping green over his body faded to pink.
“Thank fuck,” Steve murmured. He collapsed on Bruce’s chair while Bruce blinked at him and came more to himself.
“Did you...did you just swear? The big swear? You never--”
“Can it,” Steve huffed. He ran a hand down his face. “Do you even know what happened? I was well within my rights.”
Bruce slowly blinked, his huge doe eyes unfathomable as he took a sip of water. “I...ah. I’m afraid I don’t. What do--”
"Doctor Banner. Can you hear me?"
"Yes, Jarvis," Bruce said quietly. He took a few more gulps of his water. "I'm here."
"Please remain calm."
"You were turning green, Bruce," Steve explained but Bruce barely acknowledged him. He was calm now, but out of it. More than Steve expected him to be.
"You have an emergency message," Jarvis repeated.
"From...who?"
"I was instructed to play a message once you reviewed your notes and became...disoriented. Please review the video feed piping into your monitor. Should you like, you can ask to view it alone or with Captain Rogers."
"I'd...like to stay," Steve murmured. Whatever it was, if it was important enough for Jarvis to interrupt them while Bruce was fighting down a Code Green, it had to be important. And Jarvis wasn’t making sense. He dug his thumbs into Bruce’s back, fighting Bruce’s taut muscles along with his own. "If that's okay with you."
Bruce finished his water, somehow becoming more lucid as its coldness cleared his brain fog. "If it's serious, we should see it together." He gently kissed Steve’s arm. "Thanks."
Steve kissed Bruce’s temple. “Don’t mention it,” he muttered. But despite his curiosity with Jarvis’ interruption he was still shaken. Bruce never “changed” like that, and Steve never saw anything similar to it. He’d have to ask Bruce about it later.
He draped his body over Bruce’s shoulders, covering him like a warm, heavy cloak. He’d done this before after a few of Bruce’s unscheduled Hulk-outs. The effect grounded Bruce and he told Steve it made him feel comforted and safe. Steve knew Bruce needed that grounding now, though he hadn’t asked for it.
"Thank you," Bruce whispered, and he leaned into Steve's heavy arms.
Fortunately Jarvis knew well enough to wait until they’d settled. "I was instructed to preface this recording," he began. "It will be alarming, but it is not a prank. I've also been instructed to freely answer any additional questions, although I am more interested in what the video has to say."
“You didn't review it?"
Steve swore the AI huffed at them, despite not having the capacity. "I was instructed not to."
"By who?"
A video began playing.
" By me ," the person on the video said. He was smiling.
And he.
Looked.
Exactly.
Like.
Bruce.